


When the Stars Come Out Remember You are Mine

by mycitruspocket



Category: Big Eden (2000)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10623120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycitruspocket/pseuds/mycitruspocket
Summary: Tonight it doesn’t feel right just to say goodbye like they usually do. A ‘see you tomorrow’ and a hug is not enough, not while the winter sky expands above them and the stars are watching. Asking Pike to stay might be too much, asking for a kiss might not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My dear kate_the _reader, let me hug you very tightly for all your support. I needed to write this but couldn't have done it without your help.

\- Winter -

Henry follows Pike up the path to where his truck is parked, saying goodbye at the door just isn’t enough anymore. They’d taken things slowly after the day Henry almost bolted again, to get to know each other better, and so Pike has continued to cook supper for Henry. He happily stays every time now, and tonight he even cooked at Henry’s. Henry had wanted to know if he could help in any way, not really keen on the whole cooking experience but all the more on the company, and Pike had agreed to bring some of his cooking utensils over and prepare the meal in Henry’s kitchen.

Luckily, he’d ended up mostly watching Pike cook, who didn’t seem like he trusted Henry with any more tasks than chopping some vegetables. And even then he’d glanced over every few seconds, concerned Henry might cut himself, until he came over and showed him how to use the knife properly. Although, with Pike leaning so close against his back, his slender fingers caging Henry’s hand and guiding it carefully, he hadn’t been able to pay much attention to the actual task.

What Henry had enjoyed most in the past weeks, was having actual conversations with Pike. When their interactions had felt forced before, they would now turn into either friendly chats or meaningful discussions, and tonight Pike had even told him the story of another Onondaga myth.

Henry still feels enchanted by the story of Sky Woman, the mother goddess, who descended to earth by falling through a hole in the sky. Pike is such a gifted storyteller, words carefully chosen, spoken softly but with intent, eyes gleaming. Henry wants to hear all the legends he has to tell, wants to paint them all, wants to paint Pike telling them.

Tonight it doesn’t feel right just to say goodbye like they usually do. A ‘see you tomorrow’ and a hug is not enough, not while the winter sky expands above them and the stars are watching. Asking Pike to stay might be too much, asking for a kiss might not.

When the cardboard box with Pike’s bowls, plates and the leftovers Henry gave him is safely stored on the seat in the truck, and with Frances jumping in as well, Pike turns around to hug Henry goodbye.

Only this time Henry doesn’t quite let him go after the careful but heartfelt embrace. He leaves one hand on Pike’s shoulder, doesn’t step away, looks him in the eyes.

“May I kiss you goodnight?” he says gently, aware of what he asks of Pike here, prepared for him to say he isn’t ready yet, because they’ve talked about this.

Henry waits patiently, watches Pike’s eyes go wide, feels his impulse to retreat backward before he seems to change his mind, leans in closer instead and nods very slowly. Smiling up at him, with a feeling of a thousand stars exploding in his stomach, Henry closes the gap between them.

Kissing Pike doesn’t compare to anything Henry has experienced before. Their closed lips move slowly against each other and Henry feels like he’s finally found what he’s been looking for. Warmth spreads through his whole body, fills him with certainty that his decision to stay in Big Eden was right, so right. This is home; feeling the cool winter breeze in his hair, hearing the faint sounds of water splashing lazily against the shore, feeling Pike solid and warm against him. Nothing has ever felt so right.

Pike’s hands are gripping his biceps hesitantly, like he’s afraid Henry might disappear but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to hold on to him. So Henry presses closer, pushes himself up on his tiptoes as high as he can and pulls Pike down against him. His fingers are closing around the back of Pike’s neck to show him that yes, he’s allowed, and no, Henry doesn’t plan ever to leave again. This is where he belongs; in Pike’s arms, in the starlight, with his feet touching Big Eden ground.

 

\- Spring -

“You never answered me when I asked if you remember me from high school,” Henry asks one night when they sit outside on his porch. It’s very early spring and the air is still cool, but they can never resist the clear night sky and huddle together in a thick blanket to watch the stars. They did this even on the coldest winter nights, never really freezing as long as they were side by side, with Frances sitting at their feet.

It takes a while until Pike answers, Henry has learned never to push him.

“I do remember you. I remember how you only ever had eyes for Dean, and how much he craved your attention. I was too intimidated by him ever to approach you, it seemed pointless, so I settled for just watching you. Never thought you even noticed me, or anyone else for that matter.”

“Oh Pike,” Henry sighs. “I remember how you often looked away, never said hello, and I had the impression you didn’t like me very much. I also remember how sad you sometimes looked when your head wasn’t in a book.” He hugs him tighter, although it doesn’t make his heart ache less. Henry knows Pike didn’t have the support of loving grandparents when his parents had died, and he can’t stand the thought that he was also causing him pain at that time. “And Dean? Yeah, he’s always been possessive. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sad now,” Pike says and presses a kiss into Henry’s hair. After only a few months, this easy affection between them is both new and familiar, makes Henry feel a rush of excitement as well as soothing contentment.

“Me either,” says Henry and looks up at Pike’s smiling face in the faint starlight. “I remember that, too.” He traces the curve of Pike’s lips with his fingertips. “I saw you smiling a few times, and I thought it was a shame that you showed it so rarely, your bright and open smile.”

“When I thought about you, I couldn’t help but smile,” Pike confesses and kisses the pads of his fingers.

Henry knows that when he next sees a shooting star, he’ll wish for the ability to turn back time so he can erase twenty years of sadness for them both, make them smile at each other every day instead.

“Stay tonight. Please,” Henry whispers, and Pike nods, still smiling.

\- Summer -

Summer feels like Henry is 17 again, only that he’s happily in love this time, finally able to enjoy it. Besides working three days a week at the school, he spends a lot of the time at the lake; painting or having a swim every time he feels like it. He discovers that he loves to paint outside, something he’d never done back in New York.

Pike’s cooking utensils have mostly moved into Henry’s place by now, as have most of Pike’s things. They haven’t said it out loud yet, but Pike and Frances must have moved in with him since Henry can’t even remember the last time they haven’t stayed the night.

Summer moves much slower than last year, it feels almost lazy even though Henry has never felt such motivation to paint before. His latest pieces are a series of paintings inspired by Pike’s stories, and Mary Margaret is going to visit soon, already impatient to look at them in person instead of the badly lit pictures Henry has sent her via email.

The 4th of July approaches soon, and while Pike lets Henry peel and chop apples for his tart for the picnic, they talk about the painting Henry’s currently struggling with and Henry can’t believe it’s been a year since he came back. It seems almost impossible that so much can happen in just one year! He’s lost Sampa, but he’s also found love, and through that, he’s found himself. He can’t even imagine himself in New York anymore, without Pike, without the mountains, without seeing all the stars at night.

The stars shine brightly in every season here, and he thinks not for the first time that the loved ones they’ve lost must be among them, watching over them. So while he’s dancing with Pike after the picnic, with half the town dancing around them, the stars are sparkling and Henry feels like everyone can finally see who he really is. Because he wants them to see; his parents and grandparents, Pike’s parents, everyone in town, the whole world.

The way Pike looks at him while they dance and guides him over the dancefloor, makes Henry forget about everyone else soon. It’s just them and the stars now, he doesn’t even hear the music anymore because Pike is leaning down and he leans up without even thinking about it. When their lips touch and he closes his eyes, it feels like they are floating, not dancing; floating onto the lake where the stars are not only above them but reflecting at their feet as well, surrounding them completely.

There’s a moment where they both need air, their lips disconnect briefly and both look into each other's eyes for a moment before leaning in for more kisses, and Henry realises he’s home, and he’s happy. Two things he never thought he could be at once.

\- Fall -

Fall has always been Pike’s favorite season, when the leaves are starting to turn yellow, when there’s a chill in the early morning or late evening air and fog creeps over the lake, and he likes the extra soft layer he can wear now. Something new he loves about fall now is that soon, he can cuddle with Henry under warm blankets again.

It’s the last week of the school's summer break and even though Henry’s set up his studio at the house now, he’d moved it to the vacant school again for the past weeks. He said he got so used to just going across the street to have a cappuccino with Pike and the boys when he’s taking a break, he wouldn’t want to miss out on it.

Because it somehow turned into a regular thing, you can now often get a piece of pie with your coffee at Dexter’s General Store. Pike bakes them at the store in the morning, and only those he’d learned Henry actually likes; rather tart than sweet, or rich with dark chocolate.

Cooking and baking have become a hobby. He’d started only for Henry, and it’s still the most important part because Henry is absolutely useless in the kitchen, can’t even boil an egg and would starve on his own out here, but he finds he enjoys every aspect of it. It’s peaceful, especially when he’s alone and no one is meddling around. He likes the order, doing things step by step, likes to arrange the food beautifully on the plates.

Watching Henry eat what he’s created with love, hearing his praise, is the best reward. He often takes Pike’s hand, kisses his knuckles and tells him he loves him before he’s even tasted the food, and Pike never knows how to respond.

Sometimes he can’t even believe he’s allowed to do this every day, openly now, and is even sharing the meal with him. Hiding it was his choice, he knows, but it was so very difficult for him to drive out to the Hart’s house, seeing Henry every day, having to refuse his invitations to stay because he just couldn't...

Henry had told him that in the beginning, he got the impression that Pike didn’t like him, found it a bit rude of him to just leave every time without so much as a goodbye to Henry and that he only ever stayed when Henry was out. And Pike had told him the truth in return, that he just couldn’t stand to be around Henry at the time, that it had hurt too much knowing Henry would never be his.

Pike had never allowed himself to hope, he’d learned that in high school, and so had settled for making things as nice for Henry as he could from a safe distance. After being with Henry for almost a year, a lot has changed. Now he can’t stand being apart from him for too long, can’t get near enough, can’t hold him close enough.

He’s also slowly moved in with him, without really noticing at first, but when he looks at the empty state of his apartment at the store, there is no mistaking that he and Frances don’t live there anymore. Pike has never lived with anyone but his parents before and he never thought that he’d even be able to share a living space with someone other than a dog after being alone for 20 years.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy because Henry understands him so well, is so patient with him. He knows that Pike often needs time for himself, but that his presence is always welcome and he can quietly join him when Pike’s reading on the porch or in front of the fireplace.

The beginning of fall has never been more beautiful in Big Eden, Pike thinks as he helps Henry to move his painting equipment back home, because Henry looks happy. He hadn’t looked happy at all, last fall.

Henry has produced stunning pieces in the past few weeks, always tells him everything about them when he’s finished or is struggling with one, but as they move the canvases, one is still covered. Curious, Pike wants to unwrap it and have a look, but Henry stops him, placing a warm hand over Pike’s.

“I’ll show you this one at home, ok?”

“Ok,” Pike nods, mirroring Henry’s smile.

Once the trucks are unloaded, Henry takes Pike by the hand and leads him to the porch. The still covered painting rests against the chair Pike usually occupies when they sit outside.

“It’s for you,” Henry says and nods towards it.

Pike’s got a few presents from Henry by now, things Pike knows he secretly orders online  to be sent to Jim's address, so as not to spoil  the surprise for him. He then leaves them for Pike on random days at random spots; a cookbook on his desk in the store, a new novel on his pillow, cooking magazines on the kitchen table. But he still remembers when Henry gave him the Pleiades last year. It had been a shock. First, because he didn’t know how to react to such a gift, or why Henry wanted  _ him _ to have it. Then, after he’d settled on accepting the painting as well as Henry’s friendly approach, because Henry was giving it to him when he was planning to leave Big Eden.

One happy year, apparently, hasn’t made him as secure in their relationship as he’d hoped. Which is why his first reactions are freezing on the spot and stepping backward, causing him to bump into Henry, who wraps his arms around his middle immediately.

“I’m not going anywhere, it’s just a gift,” Henry whispers into his shoulder, and as he tightens his embrace, Pike slowly relaxes.

“Then I’ll, um, I’ll just open it,” Pike stammers, still a little nervous although he knows he doesn’t have to be.

Henry lets him go and he picks up the canvas, one of Henry’s big ones, and unwraps it.

Now Pike’s not a person who’d say he understands art, but he understands Henry and Henry’s art, so he realizes instantly what this painting is about.

The outer edges are in rich browns and red ocher tones, the paint is applied thickly and the texture and the shading reminds him of tree bark. There are some green spots too, looking like moss growing on an old tree. Towards the middle, the paint is applied thinner and thinner, colors turning darker into black. In the center, after the black graduates into red, is a bright star, painted very smoothly and delicately like all Henry’s stars.

“It’s me,” Pike breathes, completely taken aback.

“Yes,” Henry says excitedly. “I was nervous you might not understand. It’s…” Pike interrupts him as Henry sets out to explain.

“Your art speaks to me Henry, you don’t have to explain. This is me, rough on the outside, protecting what’s fragile inside, trying to keep safe in my heart what I care about most in this world.”

When he’s finally able to look at Henry, he can see that he’s clearly moved by Pike’s words and his expression is fond as he steps closer to touch Pike’s arm. “Yeah,” he swallows, then adds gently, “That’s it.”

Pike puts the painting down carefully and turns towards Henry, takes his face into his hands. “I love you, Henry Hart,” Pike tells him, smiling brightly, and leans in to kiss him.

“I know,” Henry says, putting their foreheads together. “Your art speaks to me too, every day, and I wanted to show you in the same way.”

“Thank you,” says Pike simply, because they are both not men of great words, but they know how to express themselves through their art, and kisses Henry again.


End file.
